Hrímþursar
by Aisling-Siobhan
Summary: Written for the 2014 Loki Month. It could have gone one of two ways, really. Finding out the truth of his heritage might have driven Loki insane in another life. But not in this life, in this life it just made him want to prove himself better than his so-called family instead.


I'm very excited to take part in Loki Month, so I really want to thank the creators of the event and the Tumblr for the opportunity.

Here's my contribution for Prompt 1 (1st-4th February 2014): Favourite Loki.

"**Hrímþursar**"

**Disclaimer: **Avengers, Thor, Loki, etc belong to Marvel, Stan Lee, et co. I make

no money from this and own nothing, don't sue.

**Summary: ** Written for the 2014 Loki Month. It could have gone one of two ways, really. Finding out the truth of his heritage might have driven Loki insane in another life. But not in this life, in this life it just made him want to prove himself better than his so-called family instead.

**Warnings:** Jötun!Loki. Laufey is a good parent. Odin's A+ parenting. King of Asgard!Loki. Violence. Language. Character Death. Loki Month.

**Rating:** R.

**A/N**: You can probably guess, but my favourite Loki is Jötun!Loki. The title means Frost (or Rime) Giant.

_XXX_

**Words****:** 1,343

**Chapter 1**

It could have gone one of two ways, really. Finding out the truth of his heritage might have driven Loki insane in another life, might have led him to hate himself and to second-guess every past interaction between himself and his family. But that would have been in a world where Loki cared to be like all of the others. This Loki, in this life, cared only for himself (and perhaps his mother, though she was not his mother at all as it turned out) and it just made him want to prove himself _better_ than his so-called family instead.

He had long ago accepted that he was different, that he was strange and _other_, (special, his mother had called him, her special little boy). But weird was the word most Asgardians chose to use. Freak was another popular one. Monster was a new one, Loki had to admit; but he was starting to grow used to it, even started liking the sound of it. It had a nice ring to it, one that made his lips curl up with vicious pleasure as his eyes laughed at the person on their knees before him, spitting the word out like a shield- like Loki cared.

Loki didn't care. Loki didn't see why he should care, when none had ever cared for him. Svaðilfari had hurt him and none had cared, other than to congratulate him on defeating the Jötun builder. Sleipnir had been taken from him, Jormungandr, Fenrir, Hela; all of them ripped from his arms, and none had cared for his tears then either. Yet when they cried, he was supposed to feel pity for them, sympathy, or mercy perhaps? He didn't; he wouldn't, and if refusing to made him a monster, then so be it. Better a monster than a spineless worm, snivelling in the dirt, pleading for their lives, while Loki sat above them, legs spread in his usual casual sprawl, arms resting on the edges of Hlidskjalf, with Gungnir in one hand and his face cupped in the palm of the other, smiling wickedly down at them as they grovelled.

Behind him stood a line of Jötunheimr's Frost Giants, and behind them were three Storm Giants. At Loki's left was a lone Mountain Giant, sent from the far northern reaches of Jötunheimr to represent her people at the request of Laufey-King. To his right were two Ice Giants, small like Loki and so very delicate looking that the God of Lies was almost afraid that the Asgardians' frantic screaming would be enough to shatter them. Between the two Ice Giants, stood Frigga, former Queen of Asgard and former Princess of Vanaheimr. Her face was red and wet with tears, nose runny, and though she fought to cover her trembling lips with her hands, the Giants held them down at her sides, keeping her trapped there.

Loki didn't look at her. (Couldn't look at her.) He kept his eyes straight ahead of him, where the tallest Jötun Loki had yet to see was crouched down before two kneeling figures, the gold circlet on his head casting dark shadows over his smirking face. The Asgardians were held in place by more blue-skinned warriors, a hand on either shoulder to keep them from rising, and a second set of hands at the back of each of their heads, to force their eyes to meet the taunting red of the Jötun-King.

In another world, Loki might have been so horrified by the truth that he would have gone out of his way to prove that despite his foreign biology he was _one of them_. He might have tried to save the Asgardians; he might have even tried to kill Laufey-King. But in this life, as his skin had turned blue in the grip of a Frost Giant who had caught him as they battled on Jötunheimr, Loki had been too stunned to react. He hadn't stabbed the giant and continued fighting; he hadn't run or tried to encourage Thor to escape with his friends. Instead, he had stood there staring at the blue skin on his arms and the strange raised markings that decorated his wrist and hand as his fingers curled and uncurled in the surprisingly gentle grip of his enemy. In this life, Loki was still standing in stunned silence as Laufey reached out for his other arm, dragging the dark haired Prince towards him, unnoticed by the Asgardians who had abandoned him in favour of their lives.

Thor had not noticed Loki was missing until Odin had blasted through the Bifrost and screamed Laufey's name. Thor had not _cared_ to notice, and by the time they armies of Asgard had amassed to recover the missing Prince, Loki for all intents and purposes was dead.

In his place was Loptr. The hrímþursar Prince.

In Odin's absence, Laufey had told his side of the story; told Loki all about Odin's cruelty and hidden agendas, of how Odin had taken Loki from his hiding place, brought him to Asgard and then returned a month later to mock Laufey for the 'death' of his son. And Loki had believed him, because it had made sense then and it made sense now, looking down on Odin (so small and weak looking, bowed down before Laufey-King) who continued to lie about how much he _loved_ Loki. Lies they were, for Loki knew he had never been loved; tolerated, yes, liked at one point perhaps, but never honestly loved by any other than Frigga (whose life Loki would spare) and by Thor in their childhood.

But no longer; not once Odin's head was separated from his body by Laufey-King's sword, and it rolled across the ground leaving bloody trails as Thor screamed his rage for the Nine Realms to hear. The look in his blue eyes could never be called loving, nor forgiving, and Loki nodded once (knowing, needing, hating it) and Laufey's sword came down upon Thor's neck too. Thor was too dangerous an enemy to let live, too stubborn a man to ever forgive. There was no love between the not-brothers in death, but that no longer mattered because the truth had opened Loki's eyes and he had no need for people to love him when it was possible to make them fear him instead.

And fear him they did.

The Giants left, with their King at the helm, and Frigga tugged along between them. They were careful not to hurt her, as they brought her to the Bifrost site, where Heimdallr by virtue of his oath was bound to obey the King of Asgard. Frigga was sent back to her brother in Vanaheimr with orders never to return to Asgard unless she wished to reconcile with her remaining son (very unlikely, but Loki could not keep himself from offering), and the Giants went back to Jötunheimr.

Loki remained. His skin was blue and he was two inches taller than he used to be, with long straight dark hair that he had let grow in the weeks since he had discovered the truth, since he had welcomed the truth and all of the possibilities it opened up for him. Red eyes scanned the crowd, brightening with glee at each bowed head on bowed knee that was offered to him. They trembled before him, his subjects, and he relished in the stink of their fear. They hadn't cared for his fear before, for his pain, and now it was time for him to return the favour.

Let them all burn, he thought spitefully; let them all suffer.

But he waited because Laufey-King had asked him to wait, because Laufey-King loved him and wanted to punish the Asgardians just as much as Loki did for stealing him away from his true home. So he remained seated in the throne that had once been Odin's and was now his own, armed and feared, and he became not just Loki, God of Lies, but Loki, God of Evil. And he was Asgard's King. The worst the world had ever had.

**The End**

Oh Loki, love, you end up a puppet King regardless of where you rule.

Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed. Not looking forward to the next prompt, at all, but I'll give it a try.


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